


Another Time

by gingergenower



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 5 Things, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Kinda?, Modern Era, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF THOSE MOVIES, there are elements of all them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9379358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingergenower/pseuds/gingergenower
Summary: In 1945, Captain America crash lands in ice, disappearing for 67 years.In 1947, Howard Stark and Colonel Chester Phillips establishes SHIELD.In 1989, Margaret Elizabeth Carter is born.Peggy Carter and Steve Rogers meet in a different century. She saves him five times, and he saves her once.





	

1\. 

Peggy stares across at the helicarrier falling out of the sky as in slow motion, the last dragging itself through SHIELD’s building like the iceberg that sank the Titantic. She’d been in New York, but Sharon texted to say that Captain America had been declared a fugitive and something was deeply wrong and Peggy flew to DC under an alias within four hours. She trusted Sharon, so there was nothing more to say. 

But now she’s in DC, and on the wrong side of the river, helpless because the helicarriers shot each other out of the sky and Sharon’s not responding on their radio frequency, and her only hope is to get to a bridge and get into SHIELD quick. 

She’s sprinting, sweat pouring down her forehead, pacing even and feet light. Something thuds behind a thicket of trees, heavy and tired, and Peggy thinks that it doesn’t sound like the helicarrier, it sounds like- 

A roar, and that was the last helicarrier, this is going to be a tactical nightmare, there are going to be civilian casualties and _what is happening_ \- 

Peggy reaches the bridge, grabbing the rail to whip around the corner, but something catches her eye. 

The helicarrier’s sinking, if there are people trapped there’s nothing she can do in her heavy tactical gear, but there are two figures on the bank to her right. One is dragging the other out of the water. 

She doubles back on herself, skidding through the shallow water and mud. 

Captain Rogers is half out of the water on the bank, unconscious but breathing, and she can’t see the second figure but she doesn’t care too much. There’s so much blood. Her radio’s halfway to her lips when she hears the click of safety taken off. 

She recognises that click, and she narrows her focus as she raises her hands to either side of her head- her belt is lighter. It’s her own gun pointed at her head. He disarmed her, how did he even do that? 

“Who are you?” His voice is rough, words sharp. 

“I’m an agent for SHIELD. Killing me would be a mistake.” She bites her lip when the barrel presses into the back of her head. 

“SHIELD or HYDRA?” 

Peggy wants to tread carefully, but instead she raises an eyebrow. “What-?” 

“ _Peggy, do you read me_?” 

The gun digs into her head. “Speak.” 

Lowering the radio to her lips, she slows her heart rate, voice even. “Loud and clear.” 

“ _SHIELD’s compromised. HYDRA infiltrated it. Don’t trust anyone. Where are you?_ ” 

The barrel of the gun relaxes its pressure, but doesn’t part contact with her. 

Peggy decides to risk it, the Captain’s breath too laboured and there are too many holes in him to leave them unattended. “I’m with Captain Rogers. He needs medical attention.” 

The gun isn’t pressed against her head anymore, it’s back in her holster. She whips around, and whoever had held it is gone, footprints in the mud and nothing else. Leaning over Captain Rogers, she presses her full weight into the one hand over his bleeding stomach. 

“ _You found him? Natasha needs to know, I’ll tell her_.” 

“He’s been shot at least once.” 

“ _Are you wearing your tac_?” 

“Yes.” 

Peggy hears the bleep of the tracker activate. 

“ _Keep him alive_.” 

She drops the radio, both hands covering the exit wound now. In a gentle attempt to wake him, she talks to him, but his body is too busy fighting death for something as trivial as conversation. 

Director Fury is first there, followed by Black Widow and a man she doesn’t know that seems more concerned with Rogers than the details of HYDRA’s attempt to overthrow every government in the world. She forgets to be phased that he was declared dead. 

“Do you need me, sir?” she asks as they load Captain Rogers into a helicopter. 

“No,” Fury says. “Agent 13 might. They’re still be fighting in that building.” 

“Permission to find her, sir?” 

Fury nods, and Peggy glances at the Captain- his face is soft, as though sleeping- and she turns to run into the firefight. Her cousin needs her. 

 

2\. 

Peggy spends three quarters of an hour making coffee and tea. The Sovokian people stare into space or at their loved ones, and it seems best to give them something to do with their hands. Fury asks her to take something to the Avengers too, scattered through the ship as they are, and she tracks all of them down. 

She comes to Captain Rogers last. Sat on a bench, his head tipped back and resting against the wall, he’d abandoned his shield at his feet. She’d knock, but he’s just in a random hallway near the cargo bay. 

“Captain Rogers?” She keeps her voice quiet, but he sits up anyway, eyes resting on her. His face is covered in dust and dirt, but he doesn’t seem to have a scratch on him. 

“Ma’am?” 

“Coffee?” She holds up the mug, and his smile is weak but she returns it. 

“Thanks.” 

She passes it to him, and she has a spare mug because she might’ve stripped the ship bare and not found Hawkeye, despite multiple assurances he was on board. Sitting next to him, she sips and shudders. 

Rogers watches her. 

“I prefer tea,” she says. 

“Figures,” he says, and he’s talking about her accent. “I’m from Brooklyn, so.” 

His face drops as the helicarrier trembles underneath them- they’ve started their descent. Without acknowledgement of professionalism or personal boundaries, she puts her hand on his. 

His fingers twist under her, and holds her hand back. She expects callouses, but his long, thin fingers and palm are soft, as though unmarred by the wars he’s fought in. She squeezes, gently, and lets go to stand. 

“Your team did exceptionally well, Captain,” she said. “Preliminary reports suggest nearly 90% of citizens involved in this attack have survived.” 

He sighs, and she wonders what would help those heavy eyes rest easy. If anything would. 

“Thank you.” 

She clears her throat. “If I may, Captain?” 

“Steve,” he says. “And of course.” 

“Find a bed and get some sleep.” 

Surprised, he barks out a laugh. “And why should I do that?” 

“Because you’ll fall over if you stand up for too long, and I think you’re a little too heavy for me to carry to the medical centre.” 

He smiles. “I don’t believe that for a second, Agent…?” 

“Carter. Peggy Carter.” 

About to say something else, he cuts himself off and his smile drops. “Agent Carter? Do you know Agent 13?” 

“Yes.” 

“Aren’t you the person who dragged me out of the Potomac?” 

Peggy frowns. That report was twisted. “No, no, someone had already done that. I just found you and got help.” 

The frowns settles on his face, and he stares at the ground. “Did you see who pulled me out?” 

Peggy hesitates. “I didn’t _see him_ , no.” 

He stands, staring at her. “What do you know?” 

“I only have my suspicions, I don’t know for certain. When I found you, I knelt at your side and went to call for help,” she says, and the story is raw in her mouth because she’s never told anyone it before. “But the next thing I know, I’ve got a gun to my head. Once he established I was trying to help you, he disappeared. I never got to see him.” 

His eyes were trained on her as though the helicarrier could fall apart around them and he might not notice. “Can you tell me anything else? Anything strange, out of place, any identifiers-?” 

“A male voice. Accent just like yours.” 

Whatever he wants to know, that seems to be enough for him, and he runs both hands through his hair. 

“I don’t know why I didn’t put it in the report,” she says, swallowing. “I’m sorry.” 

If he’d forgotten she was there, he remembered now, holding her shoulders and staring deep into her eyes. A woman could get whiplash from his shifting moods. 

“I will never be able to thank you enough for leaving it out,” he says, as though his life could’ve depended on it, when the opposite could so easily be true. He lets her go, dodging past her and down the corridor before she stops him. 

“Steve?” She holds the shield out to him. It’s surprisingly light. 

He rolls his eyes at himself, walking back to her and taking it. “Erm, yes. Right.” Leaning over the shield, he kisses her on the cheek, and disappears down the corridor without another word. 

Her cheek burns, but outwardly, her composure is settled. 

 

3\. 

Agent 13 steals back his shield and his friends’ equipment while Agent Carter misdirects Everett Ross and his task force. Someone has the miserable job of figuring out how a woman they have no connection to posed as a research officer and disappeared as quickly as she came. 

 

4\. 

She’s hiding in plain sight, moulding herself into the terrain of the city, something Fury doesn’t approve of but damn him, he’s a spy and she was a codebreaker and soldier before she got into any of this. She checks into a hotel popular with tourists and goes to her room, radio in hand. Her orders to move came from Fury. 

She’s not sure how he convinced her to answer to him, but for the first time she doesn’t question a single order she gets. He does the right thing, and she’s sure of it. 

Her concealed carry is abandoned on the dresser, the radio on the bedside, her coat draped over the chair. Peggy dropped onto the bed and hasn’t moved since, drifting in and out of sleep and listening for the crackle of her radio. 

It doesn’t crackle, but her phone does bleep. She sits straight up and grabs it. “Carter.” 

“He did the stupid thing.” Fury’s irritated, but no more than normal. 

“Where is he?” 

“West 34th Street and 6th Avenue, headed due west.” 

Peggy rolls her eyes, shrugging on her nude coat over her navy dress and strapping her gun to her upper thigh. “He’s a block from me.” 

“He’s a supersoldier, Carter. He walks fast.” 

Hanging up, she tucks the radio in her pocket next to her phone and leaves the room exactly as she found it. 

Thick with people and the summer sun, New York on 7th Avenue was difficult to manoeuvre, but Peggy pouted her lips at the men and women who let her past and skirted through the crowds, eyes narrowing in on the 6ft blonde. To his credit, his baggy hoodie suggests a lean body, and he’s keeping his head bowed. 

She walks until she’s level with him, and then points to a nearby diner. “Shall we have a milkshake?” 

He jumps, and she can tell he nearly swipes at her, but recognition is enough to stop him. “Peggy?” 

“Shall we?” 

Nodding, he follows her as they’re seated and given menus. She smiles at the waitress- the diner is busy, and she rushes off. 

“For a soldier, you’re terrible at following orders.” 

He’s tired, but he’s won, so the smile is real. “So are you.” 

Raising an eyebrow, she smiles. “I follow my orders to the letter, thank you.” 

“I’m not sure any government agency would-” 

“Who says I get my orders from a government agency?” 

He considers for a moment, then smacks his forehead. “ _Fury_.” His exasperation is endearing. Of course Fury’s kept tabs all this time, of course he’s watching. She changes the subject before he can ask questions. “Barnes is safe, isn’t he?” 

Freezing at her words, he barely nods. 

She waves him away. “The less I know, the better. But-” she leans in “-he’s the one who pulled you out of the Potomac, isn’t he?” 

“Yeah.” 

Peggy leans in when the waitress arrives, ordering a vanilla milkshake. Steve asks for the same. “I know we’re not- look, I don’t know you very well. This might be indiscreet or wrong of me to say, I don’t know how you’re feeling, but I’m glad you’ve found him.” 

He swallows, blinking rapidly. “I am. Too.” 

“You deserve it.” 

That, it seems, is too far. “How do you know what I deserve?” 

“Everyone I trust respects you, and more than that they like you.” Peggy smiles ruefully. “I respect what Tony Stark did to change his impact one the world, but I’ve met him on several occasions and I can hardly stand him.” 

Steve sighs. “He tries to be good.” 

“That’s all any of us are doing,” Peggy says, taking her milkshake. “Thank you. It doesn’t forgive him for asking me to work for him five minutes after I met him.” 

Steve ignores his milkshake, frowning. 

“He hadn’t spoken a word to me, he was just admiring the view.” 

Steve’s face screws up in pain. “Was Pepper there?” 

“No.” 

“Pepper helps.” 

Peggy bites her tongue. Capable grown men do not need babysitting, they need their arse kicking. 

“Why don’t you want me seeing him?” 

“Fury.” 

“Why doesn’t-” 

She thinks this would be easier if he weren’t intelligent, curious and a natural leader. “We’re monitoring that situation. He’s still… _unreasonable_ , even after your letter.” 

“My-” Peggy nods, and he cuts himself off, leaning back. “You’re spying on me.” 

“I can’t pretend we’re not. If it’s any consolation, I think we’re doing it because Fury won’t stand to see a hair on any Avenger’s head harmed.” She’s said more than she should, but most people who’ve met Captain Rogers are right. He evokes trust in a person like he’s only offering a hand to hold. 

“Are you following me?” 

“I’ve been assigned to keep within your general vicinity, yes.” 

“It’s been… what, eight days?” 

Observant, too. “Nine days, four hours.” 

“If I need to leave the country-” 

“Fury wants you safe. He might try to stop you.” 

“Would _you_?” 

“Depends.” 

“On the orders?” 

“On what you were leaving for. I follow Fury’s orders because I believe in them. The moment I stop believing in them is the moment I stop following them. He knows that.” 

He grins, the kind of delicious smirk that follows an innuendo. 

She narrows her eyes at him. “What?” 

“We’d fight well together. I could have done with you when my Commandoes were telling me I was stupid.” 

“I’ve read your war record and I’d have been inclined to agree with the Commandoes,” she says, but he’s still grinning, and she watches him, very determined in not smiling back. 

“No way. I’ve read your file and you’d backed me up.” 

There’s such certainty in his eyes that for a second she forgets she doesn’t have a file. 

“If you say so.” She’s only half finished her milkshake, and he hasn’t started his yet, but she drops a twenty on the table. “Give the change to the server.” 

Bracing herself for an argument she has to abruptly stop, he’s digging in his pockets, pulling out a phone, and holds it out to her. 

“What if I get stuck in a dire situation and I need someone to call for backup?” he says, all innocent wide eyes. 

She swipes it out of his hand, typing fast. Giving her name listing as Moron Emergency Helpline, she hears him laugh as she’s walking out the door. 

 

5\. 

Most days, it’s a tactical advantage to be at a distance, and Steve knows it. From a good vantage point, she watches all entrances and exits, everyone who approaches him, and she can still keep her wits on the roads and drive-bys and cars. She’s at her most useful at a distance. This, of course, doesn’t stop him arguing that the opposite is true almost every day. He plays games with her, trying to guess her location, texting her the place he’d pick and for what reason. He tells her about the elderly sisters in the corner, giggling about their grandchildren until the waiter interrupts them, and even then they’re beaming. 

She gets the text as he puts his phone down. Through her scope, she sees him wipe his eyes. 

Quickly, she tells him to watch for the three incoming teenagers- their waistband are nearer their knees than their waists, and she watches him smile at her phone. 

He puts his thumb up, and she realises he’s been screwing with her- he knows exactly where she is. 

_You little shit._   
_;) come onnn, come innn_

His argument is he’s at his easiest to protect if he’s right next to her. She slapped her forehead, wiped the sweat away, and dismantled her sniper rifle. 

They’re north west of Indianapolis, in a tiny town that consists mostly of sleepy suburbs, and the sun is hot she’s kept this up for six weeks, they haven’t seen each other since New York, and Jesus she wants to have an actual conversation with another human being. 

They’ve spoken on the phone, but Steve said it’s not the same. She’s inclined to agree for entirely different reasons to him. He was the in the hotel room next to her and had no idea, struggling to say what he felt. He refuses to resent Bucky for wanting some control over his life, but for a beautifully fleeting moment, Steve thought he’d have his best friend as a permanent fixture in his life again. Having it snatched away is worse than never having that hope at all. 

She told him she never lets herself get attached to anyone she can’t trust to survive, and it’s not something she’s ever said out loud. As she’s pacing across the half-empty car park, she doesn’t even realise she’s compromised. 

Dropping herself in the seat next to him at the counter, she’s dressed for the small towns he’s been keeping to. Crop jeans, her handgun stuffed down the back of them, and a loose white t-shirt to hide it shouldn’t make anyone stare the way Steve does. 

“Hello,” she says, breathing in the cool, clinical air of the air conditioning system. 

“I can’t believe I managed to bug you into joining me.” His smile is disbelieving. 

“It took you long enough,” she says, shrugging. 

“I had you down for six _months_.” 

She sticks her tongue out at him, and bang on the money, he grins and slides the menu across to her. 

“Today’s a burger day,” she says as soon as her eyes land on the words. “Definitely.” 

“All American?” 

“Am I allowed to eat anything else in a town this small?” 

“Not with me next to you.” 

Making a joke about a Star Spangled Man would be stupid. She just closes the menu and sweeps the room. 

Whether Steve’s aware of it or not, he’s picked a good vantage point. The counter curves around the side- where they’re sat- and her view is of the door and the front windows. 

She turns back to him, and he’s leaning in. “Have you seen anything?” 

“Today, or…?” 

“Anytime.” 

“Nothing. Not so much as that daft robot Stark has.” 

“Dum-E?” 

She huffs, but he doesn’t quite react, eyes sweeping where she was just looking. 

“It’s been too quiet. Y’know what I mean?” 

Following his gaze, she singles out the three people carrying a concealed gun, but none of them have any tells. “Perfectly.” 

They both eat, him quietly, her less so. It’s been a day since her last full meal, eating mostly granola bars since, and she’s craving meat. 

“Hungry?” 

“It’s a permanent state of being,” she says. 

“Believe me, I know that,” he says, shaking his head. 

Nudging his arm with her elbow, the muscles there have little give. “ _This_ takes a great deal of upkeep.” 

He grins. “Gift of the serum: it really doesn’t.” 

“Then you must know, I feel cheated by science,” she says. 

“I was cheated by nature.” 

“That’s true,” she says, thinking back on his list of ailments. “All that heart and all that asthma to stop it working fully. There was no justice in that.” 

They look at each other, smiling, and he takes a deep breath. “Last night.” 

She doesn’t want to talk about last night. Or, she concedes, maybe she does, and she just didn’t want to say so. Either way, she glances away. 

“You said you’ve been a soldier.” 

“I’ve fought.” 

He’s staring down at his fingers, twisting them together. “So you’ve- there’ve been people for you too?” 

“It doesn’t matter whether you win or lose. It never stops taking from you.” It’s something she accepted a long time ago. 

“Do you think it’s worth it?” He watches for her reaction. 

She presses her hands into her eyes, and it’s now she knows it. She’s going to have to take herself away from this man. It’s going to hurt. 

“Yes. Everything I’ve done. Besides, I only took this bloody assignment because it was you. You save people, you _always_ save people- I figured that you need saving too. This is worth doing, even if nothing else was.” 

“Peggy.” It’s as though he’s winded, staring at her, and she glances away. 

If he wants to answer, he can’t, because the door opens and a gun’s drawn and she throws herself sideways. Bullets spray through the air, and she slams Steve on the ground behind the counter, and there are screams but they’re targeting them, they’re baying for Steve’s blood. 

She drags herself back up the counter, getting a quick look at their positions. Three shooters, one in the doorway, one advancing and one covering from behind an upturned table. Her fingers find her handgun, stuffed down the back of her jeans. 

It’s only then she realises she was hit, one bullet in her lower back, but there’s no exit wound and for now she can still point and shoot. 

She shoves at Steve, who’s scoped them out too and nearly had his head blown off. His eyes are narrow, but he’s no weapons and no chance. 

“Get out-” 

“I’m not leaving you-” 

She shoots twice, hits once. “I didn’t ask, Rogers-” 

“No-” 

“I’ll cover you. _Go_.” 

For some reason, he does as she says, head ducked under the counter and scrabbling through the door to the kitchens. She’s only glad she didn’t get him killed. 

Her gun’s bleeped three times- it has a Stark tracking system in it. It’s been discharged, so Fury’s on his way. All she has to do is hold them off until Steve escapes or help arrives. She twists around the corner of the counter, taking the legs out from under the advancing gunman, but they’ve got semi-automatic weapons and she’s got one handgun. 

Hands sticky with blood, she wipes them on her shirt, and she’s leaving pools of blood on the floor. She was a soldier too long, she knows she’s bleeding out. 

She moves to catch the man in the doorway again, but she nearly loses her hand. She’s pinned down, and she slumps back against the counter, gun still in her hands. Blood loss exhausting her, there’s nothing she can do but sit and wait for them to turn the corner, blinking rapidly. 

They won’t kill her when she’s unconscious. She’ll die with her eyes open. 

 

&1 

In everything she knew about him, there was something she forgot. He’s Captain America. 

She hears the glass shatter, and one of the gunmen stops firing, and the other one shouts, redirecting fire, and within thirty seconds they’re both silent. 

Steve’s kneeled in front of her, casting his shield aside and she wonders where he hid it, but his face drops because he sees the blood and he knows she’s been shot. 

“No, get them,” she says, shoving him away as he tries to scoop her up. “They’ve got information, we need to know who sent them, get them.” 

“You’re bleeding too much-” 

“Do it.” 

He screws up his face, fighting with himself. “I’ll secure them, then I’m coming back, okay?” 

Nodding, she sighs as he kisses her on the cheek and pulls himself to his feet, hurrying to their attackers. 

She blinks, but it’s unhurried. The pain seems to be easing, and it’s strange, because she was sure getting shot in the upper shoulder hurt more on the battlefield, but the blood isn’t pouring out of her anymore, it’s pulsing. 

Her gun thuds against the floor, and she wants to say Steve’s name, but then she doesn’t know anything else. 

*** 

Head aching, she’s lying on her stomach and her shirt’s hitched up, they’re stitching up her wound. She groans when she opens her eyes and Fury’s watching her, arms crossed. 

“The hell happened, Carter?” 

“I was shot, sir.” 

“I can see that.” 

“Who was it?” 

“Wakandan mercenaries. Rogers knows something, but he ain’t saying what.” 

Peggy nods. “Is he-” 

“Alive. No bullets in him.” Fury unfolds his arms. “He wants to see you.” 

Closing her eyes, she winces as the doctor tightens up the stitches. 

“Should I tell him no?” 

Fury already knows. Steve wears his heart like his shield, and he won’t have said anything, he wouldn’t have needed to. 

The last time he saw her, she was bleeding out. She can’t leave him with that. “Let him in.” 

The doctor’s just tying the stitches off. He leaves with Fury, and Peggy rolls off the examination table, wincing but then Steve’s hands are guiding her to standing straight. She hears the door click shut. 

“Hey.” 

“So. Why the bloody hell were Wakandan mercenaries after you?” She tries to smile, but she needs to know to give Fury a general direction to look in. He’s frowning. 

“It’s where Bucky is. I’ve talked to my ally there. He says that someone thought taking me out would mean they could get hand over Bucky without resistance.” 

“Please tell me your ally can’t be so easily changed.” 

“I trust him,” Steve says, and that’s all he needs. 

She shakes off his supporting hands, testing leaning against the wall. He doesn’t follow after her. 

“I’m going to be reassigned-” 

“No.” 

“That’s not how this works.” 

“I’m Captain America. It works however I want it to.” 

For a second, she can’t believe he’s said it but he’d say or do anything to get what he wants, up to and including dying so he doesn’t have to fight his friend. It takes the edge off the surprise. “This was a protection assignment, nothing more. I wasn’t supposed to make contact with you, that was a mistake, I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t.” Turning away from her, he leans against the side of the examination table, head in his hands. 

“Steve-” 

“I don’t know how you can… well. Maybe I do.” He clears his throat, and stands to attention. “Thank you, for protecting me.” 

Grabbing his hand, she yanks against him to stop him leaving. “I didn’t mean for you to get attached, I didn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t be your detail anymore. I knew that before we got shot at.” 

“I know-” 

“No, you don’t,” she says, and it’s her turn to look away, dropping his hand. “It’s not because you got attached, bloody hell, your feelings don’t affect the job-” 

“Yours do.” 

Jaw slack, hands dropping out of their fists, he’s staring at her. She nods. 

“Stay assigned to me.” 

“No.” 

“Please.” 

“Steve-” 

He strides across the room, but he stands in front of her and moves so painfully slow, tucking her hair behind her ear, cupping her face. “Stay.” 

His eyes are almost translucent in their blue. It’s all she can think. 

She’d follow him anywhere.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a bazillion years ago but it's doing nothing sitting in my files so I might as well post it


End file.
